Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

Which meant the old girlfriend wasn’t the kitchen counter type? Her loss.

So many women didn’t get it. Sex was easy—it was emotions that were a bitch. Something Olivia had learned very early on. She moved close to Sven and pulled off her tank top. Her sports bra followed. He drew her close and kissed her. At the first sure stroke of his tongue, she let herself sink into his embrace. Sven was a capable guy—she was sure he knew what he was doing, which meant she got to relax and let him do the driving.





12

Kelly stood in front of her closet and was torn between swearing, throwing herself out the window or giving up before she started. Swearing wouldn’t help at all and her bedroom was on the first floor, so hey, empty gesture. Which left her with giving up, but she really hated to quit anything. How hard could it be?

Apparently too hard for her, she thought glumly and turned away, only to find Olivia standing in the doorway to her room, an orange in one hand.

“What?” Olivia asked.

“Nothing.”

“You don’t have nothing face. You have something face. What is it?”

Kelly took in her sister’s jeans. They were fitted to the point of being tight, but somehow they looked great. She had on a T-shirt, but it had a nice neckline and a cute shirttail and was in a great shade of green. Instead of work boots, Olivia wore simple flats. Technically Kelly and her sister were wearing the same thing yet they couldn’t have looked more different, and that was before she got started on the whole hair-makeup thing.

“Kelly, should I worry?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

“We’ve been down the nothing road already. What’s going on?”

“You look nice.”

The compliment was grudgingly given. Kelly wanted to stomp her foot as she said it, or throw something. This was all Griffith’s fault because, dammit, she wanted to look good for him.

There. She’d thought it. She wanted to look nice for a man. She collapsed on the bed. “I’m so pathetic.”

“Why?”

“Griffith. I want to look nice for him.”

Olivia moved into the room and sat on the chair by the small desk. She set down the orange. “Why is that pathetic? You have a great boyfriend. Of course you want to look nice for him. Not that he was first attracted to you for your fashion sense.”

“Ha ha.”

“Stand up.”

“You don’t get to boss me around,” she muttered even as she stood.

Olivia moved her until she was in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door. “What do you want to change?”

“Everything.”

“You don’t mean that. You have no interest in dressing any differently for work. You’d tell me it was stupid. That what you wear is practical.”

Kelly met her gaze in the mirror. “You don’t know that.”

Olivia simply raised her eyebrows. Kelly sighed.

“Fine. I like what I wear to work. It’s practical and easy.”

“Then keep it. What do you want to be different when you’re with Griffith?”

Kelly had no idea. She just knew that ever since he’d kissed her, she’d had a hard time thinking of anything else. Except...

“I want him to think I’m pretty,” she admitted, then wanted to claw the words back into her mouth.

Olivia smiled. “He already does.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m fairly sure. Not a lot of men date women they don’t find attractive.”

“Oh.” Kelly had never thought of it that way before. Griffith liked how she looked? She smiled.

“And people thought you were the smart one,” Olivia grumbled as she walked into the closet. “Let’s see where we’re starting.”

She handed Kelly armfuls of clothes with instructions to put them on the queen-size bed in stacks.

“Jeans, cargo pants, tops, dresses. We’ll sort from there.”

Twenty minutes later the rack was empty and the bed was covered with what even Kelly could see was a fairly pathetic inventory.

“You have one dress,” her sister said. “Who only has one dress? And could you possibly own more ratty jeans and disgusting cargo pants?”

“They’re for work.”

“Even if I accept that, what do you wear to business meetings? You don’t have a single pair of nice pants. Something in black. You don’t have a blazer or a skirt. You own one blouse that buttons.”

Kelly tried not to get defensive. “I don’t have meetings. Dad handles all that. Sometimes I meet with the direct shippers but they don’t care what I wear. I’m a farmer.”

“That’s not an excuse to dress badly outside of work.” Her expression turned stern. “Stay right there.”

Olivia walked out of the room and returned less than a minute later with a bright yellow sleeveless dress.

“I don’t know why I brought this one with me. The style’s all wrong for me and I think my hair’s too light for the color. Put it on. I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared again. Kelly stared at the dress, then at the doorway.

“This is beyond stupid,” she grumbled, even as she pulled off her T-shirt and stepped out of her jeans. Her boots and socks followed. She drew the dress over her head and was fumbling with the zipper when Olivia returned.

Her sister had several banker’s clips in her hand. She zipped up the dress, then began fussing with it in the back.

“Just like I thought. You’re what, a size four? I can’t tell you how much that bites. I run five miles a day and I’m a solid size 8.”

“I’m skinny because I don’t have breasts. You have breasts.”

“Boys do like breasts,” Olivia admitted. “However, you can wear a lot of cool backless things that make me look trampy. Now, this is what I’m talking about.”

She turned Kelly to the mirror. Kelly stared at herself and couldn’t believe it.

The dress fit perfectly. It hugged her torso before skimming over her hips. She looked tall and almost elegant. The color made her skin glow and added golden highlights to her hair.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“Nice clothes make a difference,” Olivia said. “Clothes that fit. The right colors. You don’t have to spend a ton, but make a little effort.” Her gaze narrowed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Kelly shook her head.

“That is just so typical.” Her sister walked over to Kelly’s handbag and pulled out a credit card. “I’m going to order you a bunch of stuff. You’ll try it on and keep what you like. After we figure out your basic style, such as it is, I’ll sign you up for a shopping site where they send you a package every couple of months. I’ll be the one filling out the questionnaire, just to be clear. Then you keep what you like and return the rest. It will allow you to build up a non-work wardrobe over time.”

Kelly was torn between being uncomfortable and grateful at the same time. The two emotions did not sit well together.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

“That, I believe.” Olivia eyed her. “We have got to do something about your hair. How curly is it?”

“It’s more wavy than curly.”